


Build Your Own Wings

by untilitbreaks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ...to his family, Alpha Kageyama Tobio, Alpha Oikawa Tooru, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Business, Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Space, Animal rights activist!Oikawa, Confessions, Demon!Oikawa, M/M, Meaningful conversations, Mentions of Blood, Mr. Refreshing probably makes super refreshing drinks, OiSuga Friendship, Oikage Week, Oikawa Tooru Likes Aliens, Oikawa likes to show Tobio off, Plans For The Future, Reconciliation, Red String of Fate, Tiny height difference, Tobio is so smitten, Wow I can't believe that's a tag, but in this Oikawa and Tobio ARE aliens, communication is key my friends, kagehina friendship, tags will be updated with each chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-22 12:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14308431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untilitbreaks/pseuds/untilitbreaks
Summary: "Good morning, Tobio! Remember to eat a good breakfast and drink lots of water! (*≧▽≦)"A collection of one shots written for Oikage Week 2018. Prompts chosen: fantasy AU, soulmates/red string of fate AU, coffee shop AU, circus AU, space AU, reincarnation AU, business AU, and ABO AU.





	1. Fantasy AU

**Author's Note:**

> This ship deserves all the love in the world. Which is why I wrote this whole thing two months in advance. ~~Sorrynotsorry.~~ Each chapter will be based on, along with the day's prompt, a prompt that I either found online (with a description of where I found it or the username of whoever came up with it) or that I came up with.
> 
> Today's prompt, for the fantasy AU, is one I found on Pinterest in the form of a Tumblr thread: "A demon that writes messages on your mirror with blood but they're useful messages. Like 'remember you have yoga at six tonight'/imagine sticking a dry erase pen to the mirror and with a message like 'damn it Moloch just use the pen you don't need to kill a chicken every time i have an appointment'"

Tobio was used to the writing on the mirror. 

Seeing the words written so starkly in blood wasn’t startling anymore. It was more startling when they weren’t there, and Tobio could feel that he was completely alone.

Tobio tried not to think about it objectively. He tried not to think about where the blood came from, or what the cause of it was. Thinking of it like that, it wasn’t concerning. He lived with someone who left him helpful messages daily. 

Tobio had a friend, a friend who often initiated conversation between them. He wasn’t a friend Tobio had made nor asked for, but he was stuck with him regardless.

Reading the messages each day—in the morning and, on a good day, when he came home from work as well—was comforting, despite the uneasy feeling that Tobio still had to actively try to quell whenever he saw stray drops of blood drying on the same mirror that he had to attempt to fix his hair in every morning. It was routine, even on his worst days, to wake up and have someone to talk to, even if that someone was the type of creep to sneak into his room at night and write on his mirror rather than confront him face-to-face.

Tobio scowled at the latest message on his mirror, thinking ruefully of the effort it would take later to scrub off the blood that had been smeared across the top of it, at least several inches above the actual writing, which was printed in a neat slant that didn’t quite match up with the medium used.

_Good morning, Tobio! Remember to eat a good breakfast and drink lots of water! (*≧▽≦)_

And just below that: _Remember to talk to your captain about the freshman coming in next weekend!!_

In spite of himself, Tobio smiled as he reached for the box of dry erase markers displayed in front of his mirror. He chose a dark blue one and wrote under the message given to him, _Please stop killing off the local chickens for blood, Oikawa. My neighbors have become suspicious of me since you left feathers on my doorstep the other day._

 

Tobio then pulled out his phone and texted his volleyball team captain—not because he’d been reminded by his “friend,” but because it had to be done and he would have remembered soon anyway. He filled up two water bottles before he left his apartment, one for the day and one for volleyball practice, and made a show of stuffing them both into his bag before leaving.

He wasn’t sure how much of his daily life his roommate saw, but it couldn’t hurt to show him that he was listening to him even if he couldn’t swallow his pride enough to give him a written response.

Today was a good day even though Tobio’s wasn’t. Tobio made a beeline for his bed as soon as he’d kicked off his shoes, knowing that he should probably shower before doing so, but also not truly caring enough to think it a big deal. Not really expecting to see another message, Tobio halfheartedly glanced up at the conversation with his roommate from that meeting, and was pleasantly surprised to see that he’d been given a response.

 _I don’t like your color selections_ was what was written on his mirror. _And you should know your resident demon well enough by now! Blood is obviously the superior medium and it’s a shame that you haven’t recognized this yet._

 _Yet._ Tobio wrinkled his nose. In most occasions, he probably would have laughed such a situation off. 

But then again, Oikawa made him do some things he’d never imagined himself doing before he came along, like having full conversations with a demon who never showed his face.

 

The next morning, Tobio found another reminder written on his mirror, which was to say that nothing had changed since the day before or any of the other days in which he’d eagerly awaited Oikawa’s messages—and meant nothing good for someone who was trying to change things in his life.

 _Physical therapy tonight at six!!_ was written in letters neater than those of the day before, and surprisingly but pleasantly less smudged than the same. _Don’t forget to drink water! You didn’t drink enough yesterday!_

Tobio was pretty sure that he’d had a perfectly fine amount of water the day before, but Oikawa was picky—not to say Tobio knew how, exactly, Oikawa got his information, but Tobio was sure that he had valuable resources. That was probably part of being a demon, but Tobio wouldn’t have known that, either. Beyond a brief explanation of his being when they’d first “met,” Oikawa had informed Tobio of little about himself.

Tobio didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose or because he simply didn’t have a reason to tell Tobio, but that needed to change.

On a whim, Tobio wrote, _Why don’t you just tell me this in person?_

He didn’t expect a response back. Oikawa had made it clear in the past that he couldn’t always respond to him twice a day, and there had been times before, after they’d first met, in which Oikawa had deliberately ignored what he’d had to say. Oikawa was petty and Tobio knew that, and attempting to change what they already had could easily equate to another week of Oikawa ignoring him as Tobio either begged for his forgiveness or ignore him right back.

Oikawa could never stay away for long. Tobio wasn’t concerned.

The day was average, despite what Tobio had attempted that morning. Even though it was arguably the most interesting and important aspect of his life—because, while Tobio treated the matter differently, talking with demons wasn’t considered something to be done lightly—Tobio didn’t allow himself to contemplate it. Oikawa refused to talk about important matters, and Tobio had been disregarded by him before.

It was when he returned home that his nerves were stoked by curiosity and fear. Tobio walked quietly to his bedroom, torn between expecting to be disappointed and the excitement that was driving his movements.

He almost gasped when he saw that something written under the message he’d left for Oikawa that morning. He bit on the corners of his mouth to fight off a smile threatening his expression as he walked, slowly, to the mirror. He gripped the edge of the mirror tightly as he read the message waiting for him. 

_Be careful of what you wish for, Tobio-chan._

The blood was still relatively fresh, drying in some places and visibility thick and sticky in others. A shiver travelled up Tobio’s spine, but he wasn’t scared. His fingers shook as he searched for a marker to respond back to Oikawa, but quickly decided against it. He doubted that Oikawa’s actions would be determined by what he had to say.

Tobio should have been scared. That would have been wisest. He’d heard the legends and warnings about demons before. Even if the risks weren’t quite as they’d been recorded, Tobio had gathered enough to know that demons were a dangerous, otherworldly type of spirit that shouldn’t be consorted with lightly. That was what the stories had told them, and they were the only resources Tobio had.

And he’d purposely overlooked all of them.

 

Tobio supposed that he should have been annoyed by Oikawa Tooru’s messages, or at least creeped out by them, but he hadn’t felt anything for them but a strange brand of fondness ever since he’d first started to realize what a great impact they had on him.

The first time Oikawa had left him a message in blood had been a little over a year ago. It wasn’t anything special—and if Oikawa had left him such a simple greeting nowadays Tobio would be concerned for him—but had startled Tobio so much that he’d run out of his house before he could process what was going on and hadn’t returned until days later, a friend by his side.

By that time, the message had been gone, and Tobio had been convinced that he was going crazy, until the next day, when another message had appeared, only slightly less threatening due to the apology that had been written there.

Tobio’s terror had never gotten rid of the demon, but he’d learned to deal with the cryptic messages and having to scrub blood off his mirror every morning. He’d learned how to safely converse with the demon after a number of incidents that had almost resulted a major problem, but thinking back on it, Tobio still didn’t know if he’d been at fault or if the demon had been.

He wouldn’t have dared to suggest that it was Oikawa’s fault, because the very idea of the power Oikawa had over him was enough to terrify him out of his mind.

Eventually he and Oikawa had settled into an uneasy type of rhythm, and even though Oikawa’s messages were usually helpful, Tobio knew that this could change in an instance if Oikawa wished it to.

 

Even about a week later, Oikawa’s messages hadn’t changed in content, but Tobio was more expectant of them than he ever had been.

A few days later and he was almost certain that Oikawa hadn’t been serious. He didn’t know enough about demons—actual, real demons—to say for certain that they could talk to each other normally. He didn’t dare attempt to do research on it, because he didn’t know how Oikawa would react to it if he found out. 

Several times he considered asking Oikawa what he had meant, but these were always short-lived fantasies. Tobio had never dared to question Oikawa, and he knew for certain that he wouldn’t get a straight answer after such a cryptic message. There were things Oikawa didn’t want Tobio to know, many things, and that was the reason why Tobio had questions in the first place.

His only choice was to distract himself and try not to wonder about Oikawa, as he didn’t even have the amusement of talking to him other than in the mornings, because Oikawa had become mysteriously distant.

Which was why he didn’t think of anything suspicious when someone knocked on his door exactly one week after he'd requested to see Oikawa in person.

It was uncommon that Tobio’s friends showed up unannounced, but it wouldn’t have been the first time. And usually Tobio scared off marketers before they actually tried to sell him anything, so Tobio didn’t mind telling random people off. He steeled his nerves and forced a grimace on his face as he opened the door, deeming the expression suitable enough to get his point across.

The man standing in front of Tobio was taller than him, more well-dressed than him, and prettier than him. He was wearing a grin on his face that Tobio figured would be dampened as soon as he realized how Tobio planned on responding to him.

“Hello,” Tobio said flatly. “Who are you?’

The man held out a hand, and his smile travelled up from his mouth to his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said. His voice was smooth and annoyingly addictive and charming, and Tobio had to take a deep breath to calm himself. “My name is Oikawa Tooru. Are you Kageyama Tobio?”

Oikawa’s appearance wasn't suspicious. If anything, he might have fit in a little too well with the general public. Tobio wouldn’t have passed him up for anything but a scholar if he hadn’t known any better. 

His eyes, though, were red. Dark red, like the color of blood, and terrifyingly striking.

“Yes,” Tobio breathed. “You—you’re Oikawa?”

Oikawa laughed, and Tobio was pretty sure that he was going to suffer a heart attack. “Are you happy, Tobio-chan? We finally get to meet.”

“You—you—you’re a person?”

“No,” Oikawa said. He wrinkled his nose. “I’m a demon.”

“So—why are you—“

“I can take a human form if I want,” Oikawa said. “It’s such a pain to assimilate into your culture.” He looked past Tobio and into the hallway. “Aren’t you going to invite me inside after all of my hard work?”

Tobio had been gaping at him like a fish since Oikawa had introduced himself, but swallowed hard and attempted his first real sentence. “You already know what my house looks like, Oikawa-san. You’re had no problem inviting yourself in before.”

“Brat,” Oikawa said, but there was no real heat in his voice. He stepped around Tobio and looked around, eyes wide. “It’s different, like this.”

Tobio didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. He didn’t know how Oikawa had intruded on his apartment before, but he was sure that it was much different than being in human form.

Tobio closed the door behind Oikawa and said, “What’d you come here for? Usually you aren’t…”

“Usually I’m not what? Did you think that I don’t like to have fun?” Oikawa turned to Tobio, arms crossed. “I came here because you asked.”

It couldn’t possibly be that simple. Tobio eyed Oikawa warily. Oikawa was too evasive. It couldn’t be that simple to ask a favor of him when he traditionally avoided every question Tobio asked, and disliked talking about himself.

“There’s nothing else to it,” Oikawa said, seeing his expression. “How else would I do it?”

“I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know how that works.”

“Do you want to know? I assumed that that was why you’d called me.”

Tobio hesitated. “I mean—yes. I guess so.”

Oikawa pulled out one of the chairs from the kitchen table and sat down. He gestured for Tobio to sit across from him. “Then I think you’d better sit down for this one.”


	2. Soulmates/Red String of Fate AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the idea that the red string of fate may cause physical feeling when stretched, knotted, or tangled.

It took years for Tobio to be able to feel the tug of his string and feel safe, but when he did, he knew that everything he’d struggled for for years was worth it.

The technical side of soulmate relationships had yet to be fully explained. Many studies had been performed but yielded scanty results. It was theorized that there was a biological link between people, something in the brain’s natural chemistry that occured by chance, that soulmates were simply a biological match, not one that was based in personality and core motives.

This was a viable theory, until one brought up the red string of fate.

Some believed that the string was a hoax, or maybe a tradition, something people had come up with long ago and believed simply because it had been around for so long. The way one’s gut twisted when their string knotted, the involuntary movements when their soulmates moved too far away, were easy to ignore if one chalked them up to sickness.

The red string of fate could again be ignored, if not for the people who claimed to see them.

In more modern times, people were more likely to call one insane than believe that they could see the mark of a soul bond between people. It was an absurd theory, one with no scientific backup, but those who saw the strings were said to be tortured. Most didn’t reveal that they could see the strings until elementary school at least, genuinely surprised to hear that not everybody could see the bonds the way they could. It was this innocence that was the proof behind the soulmate theory, and the startlingly similar stories between those who could see the strings. 

There was no other explanation for it other than that the strings were real, and that soulmates not only existed, but were heavily present in one’s life.

Tobio was not one of the “lucky” people who could see the strings, but he could feel his, and always had been able to. He hadn’t realized exactly what this meant until he met his soulmate, and from then on, his life changed forever.

It was said that when the red string of fate between two was stretched, tangled, or knotted, both partners could feel it. There had been many reports of people feeling as though they had lost all control of themselves, only to regain “consciousness” hours later, in an entirely different location. It was said that this was the result of the pull between those destined to be together. Short pains and relief were the result of the string being tangled or knotted. Mysterious headaches were common. All of the symptoms were seen after soulmates had met, and while many had experienced firsthand encounters that could describe why this happened, it was impossible to tell if the impact on the strings were due to physical wear or mental strain between soulmates.

Once a soulmate pair met, their strings became shorter. It became harder for the pair to split up. It was meant to be romantic, but it only served to dramatically increase the tension between pairs who sought freedom as part of a healthy relationship. Soulmates weren’t foolproof, of course. That much was easy to tell from the amount of failed marriages and relationships. It was also common for soulmates to be mixed up and confused, which led many to have a lacking faith in the system.

When Tobio was younger, he’d been relatively indifferent to the system. He didn’t care. He had more important things to worry about, a more important future, and he didn’t mind waiting for his soulmate or never finding one.

He was young, dangerously young, when he found his soulmate, and that was why Tobio argued that, at the time, he hadn’t cared about whether or not they ended up together.

Tobio was twelve when he met Oikawa Tooru. He was twelve when he me the one meant to change him, and to teach him how to be a better person and love himself and become himself. He was twelve when he’d met the person he was meant to stay alongside the rest of his life, and he hadn’t even thought anything of it until months after their initial meeting.

Within weeks of meeting Oikawa, the inexplicable illnesses he’d been subject to multiplied. He was sick with stomachaches that would go away almost as soon as he’d realized them, headaches that would occur whenever he was assigned to work with Oikawa in practice. Tobio hadn’t thought anything of it until much later, when he’d overheard a conversation with his classmates that had had to do with soulmates, and he’d been too startled to dwell on the thought for long.

(He later learned that, as newly realized soulmates got to know each other, they struggled to navigate life with shorter strings. They’d had no idea that they were soulmates, never mind that they had to change the way they acted to adapt to their new lives.)

It was when Oikawa had gone on a trip down south with his family during summer vacation, and Tobio had been hit with the inexplicable urge to go on long walks daily, that he had begun to suspect that there could be some connection between him and Oikawa. But Oikawa ignored him, as always, when he returned home, so Tobio decided that he must have been imagining it.

Tobio’s social skills could have been only marginally worse than they already were. Before Oikawa, Tobio hadn’t even thought much about the way he interacted with people. The way in which Oikawa treated him, while not terrible, was strange, and it had taken Tobio a shamefully long time to realize why.

He felt guilty afterwards, like he’d done something wrong, when he realized why Oikawa hated him. It was hard for him to think such a thing when Oikawa barely knew him, when he looked up to Oikawa so much, and while Tobio was convinced that this wasn’t the whole case, he had no source to tell him otherwise and was thus left in the dark.

The first time that Tobio had felt any kind of negative emotion to Oikawa—not fear, not hate, but not quite apprehension or mistrust, either—had been when Oikawa had finally lashed out at him after he’d once again begged him to teach him how to serve. Tobio had been confused. He’d known why Oikawa didn’t like him, to an extent, but he’d never thought that it was hatred of that kind. He hadn’t realized what had been different. He’d asked Oikawa to teach him how to serve countless times before, and Oikawa hadn’t tried to hit him.

Tobio didn’t feel scared, but he did feel lonely, and it wasn’t until he was approached by Iwaizumi later on that he felt any better.

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me,” Iwaizumi said, panting as he struggled to catch his breath from sprinting a considerable distance to catch up to Tobio, “but Oikawa wasn’t trying to hit you. I hope you know that?”

“He wasn’t?” Tobio asked, even though a part of him had felt crushed in admitting that that was what he had felt he’d been led to believe, in admitting to someone else that he was such a failure that his greatest senpai hated him. 

Iwaizumi was a better senpai, a nicer one, who didn’t let his problems affect him on the court. Maybe Tobio could trust him.

“No,” Iwaizumi said, sounding vaguely horrified. “I’m sorry—I had a feeling that you thought that, and I’m telling you that you have reason for that, but it’s not the truth. Oikawa would never do that to you.”

Tobio couldn’t help but wonder at which point Oikawa’s limits reached, and what had really stopped Oikawa from hitting him. Tobio was still convinced that Iwaizumi was the only thing that had saved him from that.

“Not when you’re his…”

All at once, all of Tobio’s anger had fizzled out, replaced by a type of warm and comforting shock that he couldn’t quite understand. “His what?”

Iwaizumi shook his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be the one to tell you that. Tobio, I know it might be hard, but please try to talk to him, okay? I know Oikawa. He won’t be able to apologize right away, because he’s petty, but he wants to. He doesn’t like it when people hate him. Least of all you.”

“I—I can try.”

“Seriously,” Iwaizumi told him. “He was reaching for the ball, not you. He wouldn’t want to hurt you. You’ve done nothing wrong to him, it’s—it’s something you represent to him, but it’s not you. I’m sure Oikawa wants you to know that.”

Somehow, Tobio convinced himself to give Oikawa another chance. They kept their distance for a few days, until they were forced to work with each other yet again, and Oikawa had mumbled out an apology with no context.

But Tobio had known exactly what he was apologizing for, and he hoped that they could move past it.

He didn’t want Oikawa to make a big deal out of things, but, as Iwaizumi had once told Tobio, that was what he did best. It wasn’t a dramatic change, at first. The changes were subtle, in the way Oikawa phrased his words, in the glances Oikawa sent him during practice. It made Tobio feel uneasy, but in a strangely good way, and Tobio wanted to figure out where the difference was made.

“Before I graduate, I think we should talk,” Oikawa said. He jerked his hand in a gesture to follow him, and Tobio felt a tug deep in his soul. “Come along, Tobio-chan.”

Oikawa didn’t bring him far. He brought Tobio to a quiet corner and sighed heavily, his gaze hardening in determination.

“Is something wrong?” Tobio asked, taking a tiny step closer.

“I want to get straight to the point,” Oikawa said. “You feel it too, right? The connection we have?”

Tobio’s breath hitched. “Yeah,” he said. “Is it…?”

“I think so,” Oikawa said breathlessly. “I know that we’ve faced difficulties, but… we’re soulmates.”

Tobio felt as though his heart clenched, but it wasn’t because of the string of fate.

Things weren’t easy for them after that, but it wasn’t because they were soulmates that they learned how to communicate and learned each other.


	3. Coffee Shop AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: “‘You’re really short and cute and buy a cup of black coffee every morning but you make weird faces as you sip it and never finish your drink are you trying to look mature or something’ AU” (from a Tumblr thread posted on Pinterest).

“Oikawa, I’m not trying to say that your obsession with this kid is unhealthy, but if it’s going to keep affecting your work production, I’m going to have to report you.”

“There are several things wrong with that statement,” Oikawa said as he wiped off the counters, “first of all, it’s not an obsession. You were way worse than this with Daichi. Secondly, he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m not that terrible, Suga-chan, I’ve seen him around my university. And finally, you’d never report me. You love me too much.”

“Who said that? It’d be nice to get some distance from you for once,” Suga said, playfully nudging Oikawa with his elbow.

“Might I remind you who volunteered to work this shift with who?” Oikawa asked. He grinned at Suga, and then nudged him back, in the direction of the cash register. “We have a customer, act civil.”

It wasn’t the boy Oikawa had been, as Suga might put it, swooning after for weeks, so Oikawa didn’t mind if Suga took the register. This early in the morning Oikawa prefered to work the cash register because it was less work, although he usually had to fight Suga later on to do anything else, because counting money got boring after a while. And Suga always got to make the fun drinks, which was half the reason why Oikawa had applied for a job at Starbucks in the first place. 

It wasn’t something that Oikawa necessarily enjoyed or hated. It was something to get him through until he had more free time and wasn’t so focused on school and volleyball, so he was grateful that he had a job that fit into his schedule in the first place.

“What time does your man usually come in?” Suga whispered to him as soon as they’d finished serving their first customer of the day. “He’s not usually this early, is he?”

“I don’t keep track,” Oikawa said, narrowing his eyes in clear suspicion. 

Suga laughed. “Sure you don’t. I’ll let you serve him. I’m feeling nice today.”

“Whatever. And don’t go getting his order ready beforehand like last time. That seemed way too eager,” Oikawa said. Suga immediately looked smug, but Oikawa interrupted him before he could make another uncouth comment. “Not because I like him, but because that’s sort of creepy for any customer. You don’t want someone to file a complaint about you, do you, Suga-chan?”

“And you call me uncouth,” Suga muttered, just loudly enough for Oikawa to hear. “I don’t see why I can’t just make it now. It’ll take two minutes.”

“He might not come in today,” Oikawa argued. “It’s not like he comes here for us. It’s conveniently close to our university. He could also be running late, or maybe he’s gotten sick our our coffee—”

“You sound a lot like you’re trying to make excuses. I don’t see why you don’t just admit that you like him already. It’d be perfectly normal for you to want to see him, then.”

Oikawa hadn’t been lying, exactly, when he told Suga that he didn’t keep track of the time in which “his man”—what a disgraceful thought, Oikawa only knew his name because he’d had to write it on his cups, which was to say that he was going to do everything in his power _not_ to let Suga do the same—came in in the mornings, but he knew the general time frame in correspondence with the arrival of other customers. It was simply habit at this point, just like it was for other customers.

That wasn’t to say that a part of him wasn’t excited every time he saw him walk in the door. Kageyama Tobio was small—a whole inch shorter than Oikawa—cute, and wore a perpetual frown on his face. He had blue eyes, stylishly messy hair, and was awkward and shy around strangers—namely Oikawa. He was weirdly charming in a way that Oikawa didn’t think was intentional, but he still made Oikawa’s heart skip a beat on a fairly regular basis.

“There he is,” Suga squeaked. “Go chat him up! Make your move or I’ll do it for you!” 

“You would not,” Oikawa hissed, and Suga only smirked.

Oikawa pretended to make himself busy with the cash register as Tobio—also probably pretended—to look over the menu. When Tobio stepped up front, Oikawa’s “Welcome to Starbucks. What can I get started on for you today?” wasn’t as shaky as he’d thought it would be.

“Could I have a tall coffee… no room?” Tobio said. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and looked away. “Thank you.”

Mercifully, Suga hadn’t started the drink beforehand, nor did he make Oikawa wait long before bringing it over to him. Oikawa hastily scribbled Tobio’s name on the cup and handed it to him even though it wasn’t necessary, since he was the only one in line. It was still a golden opportunity for him to make conversation with him, but he still didn’t dare.

Tobio took it almost gingerly, and then said, “You remember my name?”

Oikawa shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’m used to seeing you around.”

_Way to make yourself look like an idiot. You could have said something much more smooth than that, and that’s all you can come up with?_

“Ah,” Tobio said. He glanced away from Oikawa, and then back up at him again. “Thanks.”

Oikawa breathed a sigh of relief as Tobio sat down at a table on the far side of the room, opening up a notebook and flipping to a certain page of it. Impossibly, his expression seemed to become more sour.

“He totally had a crush on you,” Suga said. “Did you hear the way he talked to you? There’s no way that he doesn’t. I can feel it, Oikawa.”

“He wouldn’t like someone like me,” Oikawa said grumpily. “Isn’t that unprofessional to assume, Suga-chan?” 

Suga frowned. “Not if it’s true.”

“It’s not,” Oikawa said.

“Well, I think that you should at least talk to him,” Suga said, putting his hands on his hips. “We won’t be busy for another half hour at least. I can take care of things. Just make a quick conversation with him. It’ll be fine.”

“Suga—”

“Where did all of your confidence go?” Suga said, exasperated. “You never have a problem talking to people. There’s nothing different about this. You’ll both be so glad you did, I promise.”

“But what if—”

“You can’t make assumptions until you try,” Suga said firmly. “Now go. Good luck.”

If Oikawa really hadn’t wanted to, he probably could have said no, and Suga would have let him be. He’d known Suga for long enough by now that they both knew when they had to get serious. If Oikawa really wanted his feelings to remain a crush and never take action on them, Suga might tease him, but that would be the extent of it.

But Suga also knew what it was wise to push him out of his comfort zone, and Oikawa trusted that. So, before he lost his courage, he nodded, and crossed the room to pull up a chair across from Tobio.

Tobio looked up at him with shock written clearly on his face. Oikawa felt guilty, for a moment, but shook the feeling off before he let it get the best of him and lose the chance he had given himself.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your studying,” Oikawa said. “I can come over at a different time, if you’d rather.”

“It’s fine,” Tobio said, still looking at him strangely. “Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?”

“We aren’t busy just yet.” Oikawa said. He desperately hoped that Tobio didn’t look behind him and see the two customers that had walked in almost simultaneously. “And you can technically still call this working, if I’m asking you about a product.”

“You are?”

“Sure. You always make a funny face when you have coffee, Tobio-chan. If we messed up your order, we would be happy to get you something else,” Oikawa said.

Tobio looked confused. Oikawa wondered if it was because of the nickname Oikawa had given him, or something else. “That’s not it.”

“Oh,” Oikawa said. He looked at Tobio’s coffee, which had barely been touched so far. It wasn’t the first time. Oikawa had seen Tobio walk out before finishing his coffee before. “Do you like coffee, then?”

Tobio hesitated. “I guess?”

“If you don’t, we have a lot of other things on our menu,” Oikawa said, leaning closer. “Do you like lattes? Have you ever tried one?”

“Not really,” Tobio said.

“We have hot chocolate, too. I know it’s biased of me to say we have good hot chocolate, but I’ve really enjoyed it in the past,” Oikawa said. “I’m sorry if this is sort of overwhelming. The menu is huge.”

“It’s fine.”

“But why’d you go for black coffee in the first place?” Oikawa said. “It’s not what people usually start out on for coffee. Were you trying to be mature?”

Tobio’s silence was enough of an answer for Oikawa. He looked away, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and Oikawa regretted asking.

“If you want,” Oikawa said, sort of desperate now that he’d run out of things to say, “I can make you new drinks every time you come in. I tasted my way through the menu too, at one point. I won’t be offended if you don’t like something.”

Oikawa may have been imagining it, but he was pretty sure that there was the barest hint of a smile on Tobio’s face, and it felt like a huge victory. “I’d like that,” Tobio said, and Oikawa mentally cheered.

“That sounds wonderful,” Oikawa said. “I should probably get back to work now, but it was nice talking to you.”

Oikawa wasn’t expecting a response, but Tobio nodded. “You too,” he said, and Oikawa’s mouth almost fell open in shock.

“Did you get his number?” Suga asked eagerly as Oikawa returned to his position by the cash register. “Did you ask him out yet? I hope you didn’t ask him out for coffee. That would just be sad.”

 

“No, but I sort of got him to talk, and that’s big progress,” Oikawa said. Suga looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Oh, shut up, it took you _months_ to make conversation with Daichi!”


	4. Circus AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “People usually think of the circus as a place for the 1940′s and 50′s with its large bulbs and lion tamers, but in the year 2015, the traveling circus has changed quite a lot. Do you know how many instagram followers we have?” AU - AUideas on Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if something like this could actually exist.

It had been Hinata’s plan to go to the circus. It had been Tobio’s goal to say no to him; no, absolutely not, I’m not doing that, you can go alone.

Hinata had, before he could protest, claimed that, if the only reason why he was saying no was because he didn’t want to get sunburned, that was okay, because Hinata would bring sunscreen and snacks and everything else they were lacking in that might deter Tobio from coming with him.

“No,” Tobio had insisted. “Maybe just because I don’t want to.”

That hadn’t been a good enough excuse. Hinata insisted that he needed a break and “desperately” needed to loosen up a bit. 

When Tobio saw the forecast for the day he’d planned to go to the circus, he decided that he was going to pray to every god in existence and thank them for blessing him with rain that day.

It was pouring steadily outside, to the point at which Tobio had seen worse, but also to the point at which Hinata wouldn’t want to drive (and Tobio definitely wasn’t planning on driving them to his own suffering) or stand out in the rain. If Tobio absolutely had to go out he could, but he wasn’t going to voluntarily, and definitely not for Hinata.

 _I wonder if I should wait or text him first to cancel,_ Tobio thought smugly. _Either would be satisfying._

He didn’t have to decide. Seconds after this thought, his phone rang, and Tobio didn’t have to look at the contact information to know that it was Hinata.

“Don’t even try me,” Hinata said as a greeting. “Just because it’s raining doesn’t mean you’ve gotten out of going.”

“What?!” Tobio sat up abruptly. “It’s pouring. We’re not doing that, Shouyou.”

_If he messes up my plans to curl up in a ball and watch Netflix all day, I’ll hang up right now._

“I have it all figured out,” Hinata said. “You’re coming. I expect you at my house within an hour, and if you aren’t here, I’m going to get you. You can’t escape, Kageyama-kun. You already committed to today, so don’t tell me you’ve already come up with something else to do.”

“Uhh…”

“See you then!” Hinata chirped, and then the line went dead.

 

The only reason why Tobio was currently standing in front of Hinata’s apartment was because he was guilty.

“Kageyama-kun!” Hinata exclaimed. “Wow—I’m actually kind of surprised to see you—well, come in, and I’ll tell you what we’re doing.”

“I wish you’d just tell me now,” Tobio said, “so I can just leave if it’s terrible.”

Hinata glared at him, and Tobio decided that it was probably better to just do what he wanted. 

“You’re probably going to hate me for this, but I swear you’ll think it’s cool,” Hinata said once they were settled on his couch, ensuring that Tobio wasn’t going to run away as soon as he made the reveal. Tobio only gritted his teeth, mentally attempting to prepare himself, as Hinata pulled his phone out of his pocket.

_What?_

“If you complain, I just want you to remember that you could be going outside today,” Hinata warned. He held his phone out to Tobio. “Now look, and don’t laugh.”

Hinata’s phone was displaying an Instagram page. The bio read “Non-cruelty exotic animal trick trainer/traveling circus. Environmental activist and lover of poetry” and contained a slew of hashtags and kaomojis. The feed itself could only be described as gaudy, and was colorful with the hues of various animals.

“What is this?” Tobio said, although it was a statement rather than a question. “This is stupid. I don’t get what it has to do with the circus.”

“No, no, you don’t get it,” Hinata said. “You know how there’s controversy over circuses? Like people saying that he animals are abused to make them perform? Well, he’s different. He trains his animals on his own and bring them around the world to compete.”

Tobio frowned. “This is supposed to be a traveling circus?”

“I don’t think you understand how good the guy who’s running it is. He’s only two years older than us and he’s won tons of awards,” Hinata said.

“That makes me feel as though I’ve accomplished nothing in my life. Thanks.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be thanking _me_ once you’ve looked through this page,” Hinata said proudly. He clicked on one of the more recent photos. Tobio refused to look at it. “Here he is. His name is Oikawa Tooru.”

“So what?” Tobio said. “Why’d you make me come here if all you were going to do was show me an Instagram page I could have found on my own?”

Hinata huffed, “Maybe I just want to hang out with my friend, is that so bad? For whatever reason. And I knew that you wouldn’t actually look it up.”

Tobio didn’t want to admit to it, but he was probably right.

“And also, Oikawa-kun is hosting a life question-and-answer video today, and I want you to watch it, but I also knew that you wouldn’t have done that either if I didn’t make you.”

_“Oikawa-kun”?_

Tobio snatched the phone away from him. “Who is he?”

“I already told you,” Hinata said, although he doesn’t actually sound irritated. “Oikawa Tooru. Today is the two year anniversary of his Instagram page, so he’s doing a live video.”

Unwilling to admit that he was actually interested, Tobio looked over Hinata’s shoulder as he scrolled through the page. Most of the pictures and videos only featured animals, but there were a few action shots that who Tobio assumed to be Oikawa was featured in, along with a few random selfies of him with an elephant.

“Well?” Hinata said, leaning closer. His voice dropped for his next words. “Isn’t he your type?”

“If you invited me here for that, I’m leaving now,” Tobio said. Disgusted, he dropped Hinata’s phone back in his lap. “And no, that was wrong of you to assume.”

“I’m sorry, sorry,” Hinata said. “But hey, it looks like the live stream just started. Wanna watch it?”

“I don’t think I have a choice,” Tobio said, but he leaned closer regardless.

Hinata clicked on the live stream, and Tobio immediately recognized the man Hinata pointed out to be Oikawa. He was standing next to an elephant, breaking an apple open with his thumbs. He fed a piece to the elephant, and then looked directly at the camera.

Tobio was pretty sure that the live stream was going to give him a heart attack.

“Thank you to all of those who have recently joined; I just want to wait a little longer before starting up and then you can ask any questions you want… For those who don’t know me very well, my name is Oikawa Tooru, and I’ve been training animals for longer than I can remember.” He grinned. Tobio’s chest felt tight. “Thank you, thank you everyone in the comments.”

“A lot of people have already joined,” Hinata said in awe. “I expected a lot, but… wow. He’s very popular, considering what he does. His looks don’t hurt him, that’s for sure.”

_I know that he means the best by making hints, but it’s not helping his cause at all._

“Alright,” Oikawa said. He reached forward and the camera angle shifted, showing more of his elephant rather than him. “Let’s get started. I’ll try to answer as many questions as possible. If I don’t get to yours, don’t be afraid to comment or DM me.”

Almost immediately, there was a flood of comments, only a few of them actual questions, sprinkled in with praise for both Oikawa and the elephant. Oikawa laughed at a few of them, and then picked out his first question.

“My favorite animals to work with are elephants, obviously,” Oikawa said. He fed the elephant another slice of the apple, and if Tobio knew what a happy elephant looked like, he would say just that. “They’re such intelligent, trusting animals… Other than that, the big cats are fantastic creatures. They’re not easy to get along with. It’s very rewarding.”

“That sounds so terrifying,” Hinata mused. “He makes it seem so easy, when you look through the rest of his posts. Of course with his elephants, but especially with the cats. They’re so scary.”

“You’re scared of lions?” _He works with lions?_

“Of course not! They’re just big! And have mean faces! Just like you, actually!”

“‘What’s your take on the abuse in the circus industry?’ Hmm, well, I’ve mentioned that before, but I think that education is really important. It’s more important than anything to show the general public what these animals can do when they come to their full potential, but that’s only one of the many steps in ensuring the safety of these animals.”

“That got heavy pretty quickly,” Tobio pointed out. “Does he usually get those sort of questions?”

Hinata nodded. “He actually gets quite a few comments himself about him allegedly abusing his animals, but it’s not like that at all. I doubt that he’ll address it in this. He’s actually gotten really upset over it in the past, but it’s only gone on to define him and his work.”

“If he’s so good then why do people hate him?”

“There will always be haters,” Hinata said. “But I think that it’s clear how much Oikawa loves his animals, and that’s not going to change. 

_I know almost nothing about Oikawa, but I think that I can agree with that, too._

“I’m actually from Miyagi, around Sendai. I went to college in Tokyo for a degree in zoology,” Oikawa said. 

“We might have known him in high school!” Hinata exclaimed. “Do you think he went to school near us? Do you think he played a sport?’ 

“I don’t know. You could just ask him,” Tobio said, although Oikawa had already moved on to a new question.

“...I’ve never really worked with polar bears, or any bears, really, but I think that’d be really cool. If you know anyone I can borrow a polar bear from, hit me up,” Oikawa was saying. “I’m serious. That’d be so cool.”

“You should ask him a question!” Hinata said. “You’re totally engrossed in this. Oikawa-kun’s so nice, I bet he’d answer.”

“I’m not ‘engrossed’ in this if we haven’t even been watching it for ten minutes,” Tobio protested. “And no way. If you want to ask him so badly you can do it yourself.”

“You’re no fun,” Hinata whined. “But you’re enjoying this, admit it.”

Tobio looked away. He kept his eyes trained instead on the live stream, enjoying watching the antics of the elephant that had by now left Oikawa in search of more food.”

“If I had to give any advice to someone wanting to get into training these animals… well, it’s cliche, but stick with it. Get involved. If you look hard enough and you’re passionate about it, opportunities will come to you,” Oikawa said. “There are plenty of careers that have to do with them, even if you aren’t directly involved.”

“Listening to him talk kind of makes me want to work with animals like that,” Hinata said, uncharacteristically quietly. “He’s so passionate about them, you know? Not everyone is capable of loving something like that. I think you’re a lot like that too, Kageyama-kun.”

_Does he really think that? I’ve never really met someone like that, unless Hinata himself counts. But I think that it’s something different that he means. I don’t know what it is._

“But always remember,” Oikawa said, “wild animals are still just that: wild. Even if you gain their trust, that doesn’t guarantee anything for the next day. You can never be too careful with exotic animals, and you should never try anything without proper training.”

“I don’t think that I could ever do what he does,” Tobio said. “That’s terrifying.”

“That’s one way to look at it. Impressed?”

Tobio didn't answer. He was sure that that much was clear.

“Thank you to everyone who tuned in this time, and I hope to see you all again next time!” Oikawa said, throwing up a peace sign, and only moments later, the screen went black, notifying them of the end of the live video.

“Worth it?” Hinata asked, after a moment of silence.

“I guess,” was all Tobio said, not because it wasn’t, but because he didn’t have any other words to describe how he felt.

He least he could do was follow Oikawa’s account later on, and that much spoke for itself.


	5. Space AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We were the two aliens selected to go to the planet known as “Earth” to try to blend in. I know we’ve always hated each other, but now, I’m scared enough as it is. Truce?” AU - promptlywritingideas on Tumblr

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having too much fun with the tags shhh

The weight of the suit was heavy on his shoulders, being so rightfully, as the pitiful device that would soon be one of the only things that would be keeping him alive on the long journey he was meant to undergo, but it wasn’t as heavy as the regret and guilt on his shoulders.

“We leave in two hours,” Oikawa said. “Be ready, Tobio-chan.”

“I am ready,” Tobio said. He didn’t look up from where he was altering something on his helmet. “I’ve been ready for months.”

 _More like years,_ Oikawa thought, _because that’s the type of person you are. A monster and a prodigy._

“I’m sure you have,” Oikawa said instead. He thought about it for a moment, and then sat down next to Tobio. “What are your thoughts on all of this, Tobio?”

Tobio shrugged. “The world is a big place... We’re lucky to be the ones to be able to explore it.”

It was a superficial answer considering the one Oikawa knew that he could give, and the answer Oikawa could have given himself. But he also knew Tobio’s motivation for giving it. They’d been preparing for this moment their entire lives, whether or not they had known it before, and there were no words that could be used to describe that feeling. They’d gone over everything that could possibly go wrong, and everything that could possibly go right, quite literally thousands of times. While necessary, it was tiring, and all they had left to do at this point was their job.

It also didn’t help that, despite the years they’d spent training together—and maybe partially because of them—Oikawa couldn’t quite describe them as friends.

Oikawa was sure that Tobio was just as terrified as he was for this mission, but neither of them was going to admit it, and especially not Tobio, who had valid reason not to, even though honesty was the only thing that could benefit them at this point. Oikawa might have picked on his fear and honesty in the past, and while they had both matured at this point, it was probably an unconscious fear that Tobio had that he would do it again.

Oikawa hadn’t been Tobio’s official mentor. Their apprenticeships had occurred within too much of a similar time frame for that. It had been Tobio who had fostered a special interest in his fellow apprentice, and had persistently asked him for advice until he had—more or less—given it to him.

Oikawa had expected their time together to end as soon as his apprenticeship ended. That had been the case until two years later, when Tobio’s had ended after his, and they’d been made to work with each other all over again, as the most qualified and talented of their age group.

However negatively Oikawa had acted towards him in their earlier years, it had been given right back to him when they were older. Tobio had problems to get over, was spiteful, and knew how good he was. It was only Oikawa’s seniority to him—which Oikawa knew was no match for his overwhelming talent—that kept him in check, and eventually, they’d been forced to work through problems themselves.

At least, that was how Oikawa liked to think of it. He knew that Tobio still didn’t want to get along with him, and that he only did so for the sake of their work. It was more that neither of them cared enough to talk things out rather than that they had fully gotten over it.

Dislike for each other wasn’t reason enough to fail. This was arguably the most important expedition of their species’ history. Oikawa and Kageyama had been chosen to travel to Earth purely on their own merit, not how they got along together. Their failure would have an impact on their entire species, and success would change their history forever.

Oikawa wasn’t going to lose, even if he had to get along with Tobio to accomplish that.

Oikawa looked over at Tobio and sighed. His attempt at making conversation had died out futilely, and if Oikawa was to be completely honest, it was probably better if he saved his energy for when he and Tobio had to work nonstop to keep their ship running on their way to Earth.

And that would be the easy part. Oikawa had been training his whole life to run ships, and he’d had plenty of practice with it. What Oikawa felt woefully unprepared for was the actual purpose of their mission. He’d studied everything their species knew about life on Earth, about the mysterious creatures who seemed to govern it, but it still didn’t feel like enough. Little to nothing of their expedition was planned beyond arriving at Earth because they knew so little.

Oikawa didn’t even know if he’d make it back to his home planet alive, in the end, and if that wasn’t terrifying, he didn’t know what was.

“What are you looking forward to most about Earth?” Tobio asked, breaking the well-crafted silence between them. “You know. Positive things.”

Oikawa was so startled by his answer that he almost jumped out of his seat. He turned to Tobio just in time to see him look away from him as though he was trying not to look interested.

Oikawa forced himself not to smile, and then said, “Hmm, maybe the architecture. There are supposed to be many different kinds based on where in the planet you are. I wonder why.” He hesitated, and then said, “What about you?”

“The food,” Tobio answered, seemingly without thinking. “It’s going to be like nothing we’ve ever had before.”

“Are you even serious right now?”

“It sounded good in my head,” Tobio said defensively. “What I meant was—well, the culture. The architecture, the languages, the stories they tell, the games they play—and yes, the food.”

“Oh,” Oikawa said. “I guess that makes sense.”

Quite frankly, everything Tobio was excited for Oikawa was terrified for. He wasn’t really excited to see the architecture. How would they find their way around? How were they supposed to know which places were safe? Oikawa wasn’t excited for the languages because he couldn’t speak them, he wasn’t excited for the games because he didn’t know how to play them, and he wasn’t excited for the food because there was a good chance that it was poisonous and could kill them because they’d never had anything like it.

That was the difference between Oikawa and Tobio. Oikawa wanted to discover—he wanted to go down in history, and he wanted people to know his name. Tobio wasn’t doing it for that. Tobio wanted to explore, and learn more, and make advances for society. He wanted to see the world in the purest way possible, in a way Oikawa couldn’t relate to.

Oikawa was selfish. Tobio was not, and that was why he was successful.

But it wouldn’t be enough to teach Oikawa how to be better, and it wouldn't be enough to save both of them if it came down to it.

“Listen up, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa said. His palms suddenly felt sweaty, and he was impossibly nervous. “If you mess this up, and we fail, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You as well,” Tobio said stiffly.

Oikawa knew that Tobio wouldn’t be making mistakes. Tobio had surpassed him a long time ago. His instincts were better than Oikawa’s by default, and the only reason why Oikawa had been able to keep up with him for so long was because he’d honed his own instincts so well over years and years of practice.

Tobio had learned not to be selfish, and through this, he would take any selfless risk as long as it wouldn’t jeopardize their mission. Oikawa would take risks—he wouldn’t be accompanying Tobio if he wouldn’t—but arguably for a different reason.

They had no choice but to be successful. If Oikawa hadn’t believed that he could do it, he wouldn’t have agreed to go. 

He also knew that there was nobody better suited to the job than him and Tobio, and if they couldn't do it, then nobody could.

That didn’t make him feel better. If anything, it make him feel worse.

“Tobio,” he said, even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him not to. “There are a million questions that I could ask you, and a million more that I desperately should, but the time for that has been wasted.”

_Why are you doing this? What do you hope to find? How do you feel, with the weight of a species on your shoulder? Do you have any regrets? If you could have done something different in the past, between us, what would it be? If you could change anything about this mission, what would you change? Is there anything you wish that you could do before leaving? What do you wish that you could bring with you? What are you leaving behind? What are you sacrificing?_

_Are you scared?_

Tobio nodded curtly. Oikawa hadn’t expected anything different, and he wasn’t going to try to get any more of a reaction out of him.

“I know that it’s not… ideal, but we need to be able to communicate with each other if we’re going to do this properly,” Oikawa said. “That includes everything. Anything that’s bothering you about the trip, or… or even me, I need to know, because we’re going to be alone with each other for a long time and we need to get over our reservations quickly. Got it?”

Tobio nodded again. Only the tiniest flicker in his expression told Oikawa that he was listening to him with rapt attention. 

“I don’t know what we’re going to encounter, or even if we’ll get to Earth in the first place. I don’t know what’s going to happen—we could lose each other, we could die, we could blow our cover and spark a mass outrage—but the point is, we need to be able to trust each other, if we’re going to survive,” Oikawa continued. “And you don’t have to lie. I know that you don’t trust me, and I know that I probably don’t deserve that trust. But we need to try.”

“Do you trust me?”

“With some things? Yes.”

“I agree with what you said,” Tobio said. “If you’re willing to try, I'll try with you.”

“We’re not just going to try. We’re going to do it or die. What choice do we have?”

“Noted.”

“And I know that we’ve always hated each other, but I’m scared enough as it is,” Oikawa added. He waited for something in Tobio’s expression to change—anything to give him a clue as to what he was thinking—but nothing happened. “Truce?”

For a long moment, Tobio was silent. And then he nodded, slowly, and said, “Truce.”

Oikawa wouldn’t be going on an expedition to explore a fully populated planet if he didn’t know the meaning of hope. He wouldn’t be going on such an expedition if he didn’t know the meaning of what it meant to take a risk.

But some risks were more challenging than others, some required more cooperation, and some required something along the lines of trust.


	6. Reincarnation AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I meet and fall in love with you at every lifetime at the same age but your age is always different and it never works out and for the first time I’m meeting you when we’re the same age and I’m horrified that I might mess this up AU” - queenkairi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week is going by too quickly >.<

Of the many things that Tooru considered himself, the most real and present of all of them was was the one that was also involuntary and terrifying.

There weren't many people who could remember their past soulmates. It was a complicated thing, something that was almost impossible to research given the small amount of people who actually could. A person’s whole life couldn’t be remembered—all that could be recalled were memories of their soulmate, and this equated to more or less of their life depending on the timeline. Some people could remember more specific things than others. A good majority of those people ended up going insane later in life, confusing their current life with those from the past. Some people thought that it was romantic. Those who had actually experienced it saw it as a blessing rather than a curse.

For Tooru, it was just something he’d gotten used to, and remarkably good at ignoring.

He supposed that he was lucky not to be one of the ones who suffered extreme mental health issues at an early age. His ability to remember his past lives had been recognized as soon as possible, which had saved him many issues in this particular timeline. He was unlucky, however, to be able to remember his lives at all.

For someone who, in most timelines, rarely went on a date until well into his college career despite his good looks and vast following of admirers, it had always been strange to be able to remember his past romantic endeavors. It was also rare that he told people about his memories, because they were impossible to put into words. Tooru couldn’t remember every timeline at any given moment even if he wanted to. Memories came to him whether he liked it or not, often at the most inopportune times.

Most people like Tooru could remember a decent amount about their soulmates—happy things, sad things, brief flashes of seemingly insignificant events. Tooru? Almost nothing.

He had no idea why, but it had always been that way. He’d tried consulting doctors before in past lifetimes, but no matter how much time went by, it became no easier to identify the reason why he couldn’t remember. He knew for a fact that not many of his timelines had ended in a happy ending for him and his soulmate—if any.

Usually, Tooru wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t need a soulmate to be happy. He’d lived many timelines without his soulmate, and he’d made many friends who had never found their own, and found comfort in reflecting on his experiences with them.

What was different between him and his friends, though, was that they had forgotten their love.

Just because someone was meant to be your soulmate didn’t mean that love would come automatically. It didn’t mean that the relationship was even meant to be romantic. But Tooru had fallen in love with his soulmate before, and it was impossible to forget that love.

Tooru hadn’t forgotten what it had been like to love his soulmate and be loved in return, not even after his soulmate had broken his heart across multiple timelines.

Arguably, Tooru must have done the same thing to his soulmate, even if they didn’t remember him.

Even for people who didn’t remember their soulmate, there was still a deep-seated ache for them, and a deep-seated sense of relief and peace that came with meeting them for the first time. It was hard for someone who hadn’t met their soulmate to visualize, but it was impossible to mistake.

The first time Tooru had lost faith in the soulmate system as a romantic entity, he’d been fifteen, and he’d run into a his soulmate on a playground at a local elementary school. He’d introduced himself to the boy, and then he’d ended up feeling terrified by what he’d felt when he’d talked to him.

Tooru ended up seeing him again a few days after, and had ignored him. Upon returning back to the location, he left his soulmate confused and lonely. He hadn’t felt regretful. When he later found out that the boy had been his soulmate, he hadn’t felt much of anything.

Tooru ended up meeting his soulmate again, years later, when he was in high school. His parents had insisted that he needed something to keep himself busy other than volleyball, and he’d ended up creating an advertisement for himself, offering himself a tutor. He hadn’t expected anyone to call him, but fate had a way of doing funny things.

Tutoring his soulmate wasn’t too bad. They got along fine enough. But there was nothing there between them. Tooru felt no romantic attraction to Tobio, quite honestly disgusted at the thought of dating someone so much younger than him, and couldn’t see them even being friends. The difference in their age was too much to be made up at their current age, and it was unlikely that they would pursue friendship later on in life.

It was this experience that taught Tooru that some soulmates were better either being romantic partners or nothing, because friendships were difficult to maintain when there was always the nagging feeling that they could have been something more.

The same theme kept up for the next few timelines, and that was what made Tooru officially lose hope.

Tooru continued to meet his soulmate at around twelve years old, but his soulmate was never the same age, and any hope he had of addressing their relationship as soulmates was dashed repeatedly.

Debatably more heartbreaking for Tooru was when his soulmate was years older than him.

In one timeline, it had taken Tooru years to finally get across to his parents just what volleyball meant to him, and at that point, it was completely worth it. They took him to see his first live volleyball game when he was twelve, and by the time he was fifteen, Tooru had convinced them to bring him at least once every few months.

Tooru was fifteen when he first got to see the Japanese national team play, only months before the Olympics. He’d been ecstatic, buying much more merchandise than necessary specifically for the occasion, and plotting how to best get at least one autograph.

It was there that he finally met his soulmate. Tooru caught his eyes from across the gymnasium, and he’d known immediately that he was his soulmate. In a rush of adrenaline, Tooru had tried to catch him after the game, but hadn’t even been close. Important, famous people had no time for those who hadn’t accomplished anything like them.

In that timeline, he hadn’t truly met his soulmate in his entire lifetime. He watched every game online, went to as many as possible in person, and tried to keep up with him even after he’d retired, but it was futile. His soulmate was over a decade older than him, and disappeared from the internet at a relatively young age.

It was practically impossible not to meet and fall in love with your soulmate and to have a happy ending all together in at least one timeline every few lifetimes. Tooru didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t tried hard enough or was extremely unlucky, but he had to do better.

And if the lifetimes he’d spent chasing after his soulmate were anything to go by, Tooru didn’t know when his next chance would be, because it was anything but guaranteed. 

Tooru wasn’t going to live another lifetime without his soulmate.

“I’m sorry I called you here so late,” Tooru said. “But I didn’t want to wait any longer.”

Tooru hadn’t known where to suggest their meeting place to be, so he’d proposed their mutual junior high. Other than its convenience, it seemed symbolic. Tooru was trying not to think about it too hard for a number of reasons.

_I only have one shot to get this right and secure our future. I can’t afford to let nerves get the best of me when this will have such a great impact on me and him, and the rest of our lifetimes._

“It’s fine,” Tobio said. He turned in a slow circle, surveying their location, his hair ruffled by the cool night air. It was so quiet that Tooru could hear each one of his individual breaths. “A little strange, though.”

“What I’m going to tell you is a little strange,” Tooru said. He gestured to a nearby bench. “Let’s sit down.”

Tooru was careful to put distance between them, but Tobio didn’t acknowledge it. He looked at Tooru with confusion written on his face and said, “Why?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Tooru said with a sigh. He thought back to the years they’d spent angry at each other, and wondered why Tobio had even agreed to meet up with him in the first place. It was Tooru’s only jealousy and insecurity that had caused the division between them back in junior high, when he’d treated Tobio like he still had another chance to win his affection.

If there was anything he should have learned from his past timelines, it was that second changes didn’t come cheaply. He wasn’t going to waste his now.

“You have to promise me that you won’t run away until I’m finished explaining myself,” Tooru said. “It’s startling for some to hear at first.”

“Okay?”

“I’m going to be frank with you.”

“Okay.”

“I can remember my past soulmates, and you’re him.”

Tobio stared at him. If it was anyone else, Tooru was sure that they would have laughed. It must have been hard not to, and Tooru suddenly regretted saying it the way he had.

But Tooru wasn’t going to lose his chance with Tobio, and he wasn’t going to evade the truth, as he’d been doing for many lifetimes.

“I can’t remember everything,” Tooru said, before Tobio had a chance to answer. “I can answer any questions you have about it, or what you were like before, but it’s not pretty. Not that you weren’t wonderful, it’s just… It’s unnatural to remember things from centuries about, and I can’t happily burden you with that information. It’s flashes of events that I can remember, and I can’t always remember them.”

Tooru had never realized just how delicate Tobio’s features were. His eyes were soft and wide as he listened to Tooru. His mouth was open slightly in shock. Tooru desperately wanted to kiss him, and convey to him what he’d been feeling for centuries.

“I want to apologize to how I acted to you in junior high, and even now. It was never out of hatred. I could never hate you, and not just because you’re my soulmate,” Tooru said. “I know that it’s probably not easy for you, but I’m begging you, Tobio. If you’ll give me another chance, I want to make it up to you. I can’t bear to allow another lifetime to go by without taking a risk and loving you, if only you’ll have me, one day.”

“How long have you been in love with me?”

“Many lifetimes,” Tooru breathed. “I haven’t been able to approach you for many timelines because of chance, and how our ages lined up. I can’t bear to allow a lifetime to go by when ours finally meet.” He exhaled slowly. “It’s hard to say, and honestly, I’d be a little creeped out if I were you. But I want to be honest with you.”

“So you want another chance?” Tobio said. “That’s it?”

“If that’s all you’ll give me, then yes,” Tooru said. “I’m not trying to lie to you or take advantage of you or anything like that, and if you don’t believe me, which I would understand, I want to prove to you how I feel.”

“Okay,” Tobio said. He sat up a little straighter, his gaze hard with what could only be interpreted as determination. “I’ll give you that.”

Tooru wondered if he was imagining the blush on Tobio’s cheeks, or if it was real, and their conversation was real, and something Tooru had wanted for several lifetimes was finally happening.

“Thank you,” Tooru said. His words, however simple, were thick and garbled. “Thank you so much, Tobio.”

“No,” Tobio said, and he reached forward and took Tooru’s hands in his own. “Thank you.”


	7. Business AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “uhoh i’m dating my boss’s child and had no idea until i took them as my date to a work function au” - astralsuga on Wattpad

“Wow, Tobio-chan. I didn’t know that you cleaned up so well.”

Tobio scowled, but it wasn’t for the same reason that he might have a few years ago. Oikawa’s works came off as mean-spirited rather than a compliment, but Tobio had learned by now the way in which he liked to tease. 

(This had been mostly from observing the way Oikawa treated Iwaizumi, and it was through that that Tobio realized that Oikawa was a little more than fond for him.)

“What a coincidence,” Tobio said, “but I already knew what you look like in a suit.”

“You should tell me what you mean by that instead of making me think about it,” Oikawa whined. He ran his hand, slick with hair gel, through his hair, and groaned. “Never mind, you could make it up to me better by helping me with this.”

“Your hair looks fine,” Tobio said, without even sparing him a glance. He fiddled with his tie and wrinkled his nose in discomfort. If Oikawa hadn’t been around to insist that he wore it, he probably would have dropped it completely.

“I don’t just want to look _fine_ ,” Oikawa said. He frowned at himself in the mirror. “I need to look _stunning._ Everyone at the office has seen me before, so I need to stun them with something new.”

 _With doing your hair the same way you always do?_ Tobio thought, but didn’t say out loud. Oikawa probably had an idea for it that he didn’t understand—or maybe just didn’t notice, he understood why Oikawa was concerned, though. This was the first big work function he’d attended since being promoted, and he wanted to impress people.

Tobio liked to believe that he felt similarly, but if anything, he probably felt worse. He’d began working at the same company as Oikawa relatively recently, and hadn’t attended anything like this before. While Oikawa was a social butterfly and had acquainted himself to practically everyone working there, the only people Tobio really knew were him and a couple others who worked alongside him.

“If you don’t finish up soon, I’m leaving,” Tobio warned, and Oikawa squawked indignantly, rushing to wash off his hands and finish getting ready.

While it hadn’t been explicitly stated on the invitation they’d received, Oikawa had insisted that they were allowed to bring a plus one. Tobio supposed that it didn’t count if they both worked for the company anyway, but Oikawa said that it was fine,

Tobio doubted, however, that Oikawa actually planned on telling anyone they were together, but he didn’t think that it was a particularly good idea if he was trying to make a good impression, anyway.

To Tobio’s surprise, they made it out the door relatively soon after and were only ten minutes later when they did arrive. Tobio lingered behind Oikawa, allowing him to walk in first.

Tobio would never understand the way Oikawa came alive in front of people. Tobio didn’t consider himself terrible socially, but he couldn’t even begin to compare himself to Oikawa, who not only used such social events to make connections, but also genuinely enjoyed them.

It was probably exactly why, despite not being much older than him, Oikawa was ranked much higher than him. Tobio was an efficient worked, but Oikawa was everything Tobio wasn’t—charismatic, personable, and persuasive. 

Tobio loved him.

“There are so many people I want to introduce you to,” Oikawa said, pulling away from a long-winded conversation with a coworker Tobio had—predictably—never met before. “I can’t believe you’ve never been to one of these events before.”

“I never had anything to go with,” Tobio muttered. “If you’re so earner about it, let’s just get it over with.”

Despite the outward harshness of Tobio’s tone, Oikawa brightened up even more and grinned at him, “I’m so excited, Tobio-chan, do you even know everyone on your floor?”

 _No_ was the very obvious answer, but Tobio wasn’t going to tell him that. He probably knew, anyway, and Tobio was happy to space himself the embarrassment,

It wasn’t Tobio’s fault that he wasn’t well-acquainted with his coworkers. He’d been hired at a particularly busy time, and aside from basic training to accustom himself to the way the company did things, Tobio hadn’t interacted much with his coworkers. His acquaintance with Oikawa had been almost completely by chance, and it wasn’t because of work that they’d grown closer.

“You’ve already met Iwa-chan, so Makki and Mattsun are up next,” Oikawa said. He took Tobio’s arm and tugged him along. “And then Yahaba-chan, and—oh! Have you have the pleasure of meeting Sawamura yet?”

It wasn’t a terrible experience. There were a few people that Tobio recognized that he had seen around but hadn’t been formally introduced to yet, and Oikawa was eager to inform Tobio of whether or not he should become friends with them. Tobio made awkward eye contact with his supervisor at one point, sticking close to Oikawa rather than making conversation.

Tobio’s nerves spiked through the roof when he caught sight of his boss, but Oikawa seemed delighted at the prospect. “Let’s go talk to him, Tobio!” he said brightly. “I bet you haven’t talked to him since your interview.”

“Not really,” Tobio said, inwardly cringing.

“Tooru-kun!” his boss said, as soon as he laid eyes on Oikawa, happening to spot them almost at the same time as Oikawa had begun to drag him over. He weaved his way through the crowd of people and over to Oikawa, and Tobio shrank closer to him.

_That seems sort of informal, but I don’t want to question Oikawa._

“Ah, Tobio-chan. I’d like you to meet my father,” Oikawa said, grinning a bit too smugly, and Tobio’s heart leapt into his throat.

_Is he kidding me? He’d better be lying to me. He wouldn’t joke about something so serious._

_He wouldn’t have kept something like that from me._

“It’s nice to meet you again, Kageyama-kun,” he said, dipping his head in what could barely be called a bow. “Tooru has told me about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you again as well,” Tobio said, hastily dropping into a low bow,

_He’s talked to him about me, but he hasn’t talked to me about him?_

Oikawa began talking to his father about something unrelated—the food that was being offered, Tobio thought, although he couldn’t have been sure—but Tobio couldn’t bring himself to look at Oikawa or listen. He skated until Oikawa’s father dismissed himself before turning to Oikawa, slowly.

Shock was still settling in, but it didn’t inhibit Tobio’s ability to out into words what he wanted to say. “What was that for?” he demanded, maybe s little louder than necessary. “Why didn’t you tell me that before now?”

Oikawa held up a hand to quiet him. “I didn’t mean any harm by it, Tobio. I thought it might be a little funny—“

“It’s not funny,” Tobio snapped. “You think you’re the only one trying to make a good impression? This is my job, this is—us, this is so much more than a joke.”

Tobio may have been overreacting, but he was frustrated. He’d know that he’d had to make sacrifices for Oikawa, who would want to push him outside of his social comfort circle, but introducing him to people was a lot different than spontaneously and publicly revealing to him that he was Tobio’s boss’s son.

“I’m sorry, Tobio. I thought that you would have guessed,” Oikawa said, he sounded genuinely confused, which only frustrated Tobio further. “Hey, let’s go somewhere else.”

Oikawa led him out into the hallway, which was empty, and rightfully so. Tobio sighed heavily and looked up at him, trying to force his expression into something neutral. 

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa repeated. “I really didn’t mean any harm by it.”

“You don’t have the same family name. How was I supposed to know that you’re related?”

 _I know you didn’t mean it, but I don't want to jeopardize the way he could view_ us.

Oikawa winced. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing,” Tobio said, with another sigh. “

Oikawa frowned. “Okay. Ready to go back now?”

“I guess.”

Oikawa turned and began walking, but then he paused and looked back over his shoulder at Tobio. “We’re good, right?”

Oikawa had made a mistake, one that Tobio couldn’t just forgive him for. They would probably have to have a real conversation later, when they’d both thought things over. It wasn’t a big deal, but Tobio didn’t want to practice miscommunication early on when they could solve problems and feel good about it afterwards. 

Thankfully, Oikawa seemed to be on the same page as him. 

“We’re good,” Tobio affirmed. He stepped forward to meet Oikawa and bumped their shoulders together. “Don’t worry about it, Tooru.”


	8. ABO AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I wish I could claim you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! Thank you so so so much to everyone who has read this fic (and everyone who will in the future). This is my most popular story on here by a lot, which I hadn't expected at all. I'm happy that I got to share my love for this pairing through this week, and I hope that you've enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> As for this particular one shot, its mood is a bit darker than the others. But I wrote it with the intention that hopefulness and anticipation for the future would shine through - and I think that this collection of one shots as a whole represents my wish that this ship, and this fandom as a whole, will experience something similar.
> 
> Edit: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH! I honestly didn’t expect this to get as much attention as it did, but it just hit 100 kudos and over 1500 hits 0.0 whoa. Thank you to everyone who’s read and supported these one shots!

“I wish I could claim you,” Oikawa said, and skimmed his teeth across Tobio’s scent glands.

Tobio yelped, and Oikawa grinned, his lips pressed lightly against Tobio’s neck—only enough to tease, and nothing more. He knew exactly how to get Tobio riled up, in a number of different ways, and enjoyed it a bit more than he probably should have. 

It hadn’t always been that way with them. They’d struggled, in their earlier years, and looking back on it, beginning a relationship probably hadn’t been their wisest idea. They’d had a lot to work through, things that could have resulted in an arguably unhealthy relationship, but if asked, both of them would attest to the fact that it had ended up being very, very worth it.

“I wish I could mark you,” Oikawa whispered, more quietly now, and the way Tobio shifted in his arms confirmed to Oikawa that he knew exactly what he meant.

When they’d met, they’d both already visibly presented as alphas. It was probably a decent part of the reason why they’d had trouble getting along in their younger years, the influence of hormones and differing personalities. 

The easy explanation for it was that alphas weren’t meant to be, but Oikawa didn’t think that he’d ever heard anything so ridiculous in his entire life.

From a young age, he’d been exposed to the kind of stigma that came with being an alpha, and the sorts of expectations that were placed on them when it came to choosing mates. Oikawa hadn’t thought that he’d bond to anyone but an omega one day, up until middle school, when he’d first heard about the alternative types of relationships between secondary genders.

He hadn’t thought much about it then, either. He hadn’t seen anything wrong with the idea of two alphas being together or two omegas being together, but the idea hadn’t appealed to him. He hadn’t even thought that much about the idea.

Until high school.

Oikawa had met Kageyama Tobio before then, but they’d been nothing but rivals. Oikawa felt nothing about him but irritation, and if he’d told his middle school self that he’d one day be insanely attracted to Tobio, he probably would have laughed.

The idea was sort of unbelievable to Oikawa even now, but for an entirely different reason.

He had no idea how he’d been so lucky as to find himself with an alpha like Tobio, but he had, and he wasn’t going to mess up their relationship over something that could easily be solved through proper communication.

“I know,” Tobio said, although it was more of a whine than actual speech. “I know, I do too.”

Technically speaking, there was no reason why they couldn’t mark each other. Biologically, alphas could deliver the same bond marks to each other, and it was said that the same phenomenons occurred regardless of secondary gender. It would be a valid bond, and then they’d both get the closure that they were looking for. 

The only reason why they hadn’t bonded yet was because of the stigma against relationships between alphas. As supportive as Oikawa’s parents were, they’d never really approved of his relationship with Tobio. And Tobio wouldn’t dare bring up the topic with his parents. Not only that, but neither of them could risk putting their jobs in jeopardy. In professional sports, something as gossip-worthy as a new bond mark—especially one clearly from another alpha—could quite literally ruin their careers. 

Oikawa had no doubts that, if it was possible, either he or Tobio would have given that up for the chance of bonding regardless. They would have found a way to work things out, and find someone new to hire them, even if it meant giving up their dreams.

But financially, that was impossible for both of them. Part of the reason why they’d been able to keep their relationship a secret for so long was because they’d been so careful with money, willing to spend when it could secure their safety and confidentiality for a little while longer.

“I want everyone to know how much I love you,” Oikawa murmured. “I want you to be mine.”

It wasn’t as though a bond was necessary to symbolize their love. Oikawa knew, deep down, that the only reason why he was so fixated on making the mark was because it technically wasn’t an option for them. If it had been an option for them later on, Oikawa doubted that his opinions on it would be so strong. He’d put trust in the system, and allow them to remain complacent in their love and wait on the bond, it being such an extreme change in the chemistry not only in their relationship, but also individually.

“I am yours,” Tobio promised. “Do you doubt that?”

“Never,” Oikawa said. He leaned closer, and Tobio met him halfway for a kiss. “I’m yours, Tobio.”

Alphas didn’t nest the way omegas did, and typically didn’t nest at all, but they’d been lazing around in their version of a nest for the better part of the day. It was rare that they got such long periods of time to spend together doing nothing, always having somewhere to be and something to prove. Making the best of these occasions had never been a problem for them. If anything, they’d become better at it than they probably should have been over the years.

“I don’t want you to ever doubt that,” Tobio said, more serious now. “A bond is important, but it doesn’t and never will replace true feelings.”

“We practically already have a bond,” Oikawa said. He threw his arm around Tobio, lazily pulling him closer to him. “We don’t need it.”

That was probably a lie. They both wanted a bond desperately, for a variety of reasons, and even if it would pose no real benefit to them, even if it was superficial, even if it was over-glorified and they both truly knew that.

“Of course.”

“We’ll do it one day,” Oikawa promised. He ran his teeth across Tobio’s scent glands one last time, allowing the image of what it would be like to finally make the mark to surface in his mind. “We’ll find a way. I know we will.”

Oikawa had heard the stories before. He knew the risks, and he was willing to make the sacrifices. He also knew the strain that allowing a relationship to continue on with bonding so idealized could only hurt their relationship. Frustrations would increase, tensions would rise, and more and more problems would become apparent as they wished for something they couldn’t have.

Even so, Oikawa wasn’t going to take no for an answer. One day, he and Tobio would bond, and they’d get to prove what they’d wanted to for years.


End file.
